


Throw The Dice, Cold As Ice

by Sokkas_First_Fangirl



Series: I Lay My Life Before You [11]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alpha Brian, Alpha Jim, Alpha Paul, Alpha Roger Taylor (Queen), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Beta Joe, Beta John, Don't copy to another site, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jim Hutton is the best Alpha too, Jim Hutton is the best husband, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Graphic Smut, Obsession, Omega Freddie Mercury, Omega Verse, Paul Prenter Being an Asshole, Paul's his own warning right?, Protective Jim, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen), Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 15:29:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokkas_First_Fangirl/pseuds/Sokkas_First_Fangirl
Summary: It's Freddie's 39th birthday and all Jim wants to do is enjoy the party with his husband. But there's a problem: all Paul Prenter wants to do is finish what he started at Ridge Farm.He severely underestimated Jim Hutton and what he'd do to protect Freddie.Otherwise known as: Paul Prenter is a creep, Jim Hutton is a protective husband, and they come to blows at last.





	Throw The Dice, Cold As Ice

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: non-consensual drug use, threats of rape, mentions of attempted rape. 
> 
> This is astheykissconsume's fault 😂   
> The request was "I would be super intrigued to see Paul and Jim meet somehow in this verse. Maybe Paul finding a way to creep into some kind of Queen celebration years later, thinking the fact that he was fired and the reasons for it have probably been forgotten by most, only to end up running into Freddie's husband and bondmate, who has heard all about Paul Prenter..."   
> As per usual, shit spiraled out of control really fast. 
> 
> Anyway, proceed with caution if any of the content could trigger you- as always, stay safe guys 💕 I still can't write anything beyond cuddles but I hope you enjoy anyway!

**Munich, Germany, September 5th 1985** **  
** **_“And I'm possessive, it isn't nice. You've heard me saying that smoking was my only vice. But now it isn't true. Now everything is new, and all I've learned has overturned, I beg of you...Don't go wasting your emotion. Lay all your love on me.” -Lay All Your Love On Me,_ ** **ABBA**

Jim woke up early, he couldn’t seem to help it. Even when he was allowed to sleep in, he woke up early. Others might find it annoying, but he didn’t mind; it was peaceful in the early morning.

And it gave him an excuse to look at his husband as much as he wanted without Freddie calling him a sap.

It was Freddie’s 39th birthday, he’d have to share him all day. The party promised to be utterly insane. Who knew when they’d get another moment alone today? 

So for now, Jim was content to lie there, a sleeping Freddie still cradled in his arms. Neither of them had bothered re-dressing after they cleaned up last night, but their bedroom was perfectly warm (getting a little stuffy actually), and Jim had no intention of moving until he had to. Freddie’s scent washed over him and he pressed his nose against the bond mark on Freddie’s neck, breathing deeply. If he was honest, part of him still couldn’t quite believe that Freddie had picked  _ him.  _ He was a rockstar, he was gorgeous; he was sweet and funny, and yet he’d picked plain old Jim Hutton the hairdresser for his bond partner, for his husband. 

The thought, as always, made Jim smile. His grip on Freddie tightened as he pulled him closer.

Of course, that woke Freddie up.

“Hm?” Freddie stretched out with a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Eight,” Jim told him.

Freddie scoffed, shooting him an unimpressed look over his shoulder. “You’re a freak,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“It’s called being an early bird,” Jim said.

“It’s called being  _ insane, _ ” Freddie said, eyes still shut. “Now shush, it’s sleep time.”

He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “Fred-”

_ “Shush.” _

For a moment he followed Freddie’s command and shut up, still smiling. But as his mind kept flashing back to last night, to Freddie riding him so hard they both saw stars, his hand began to drift across Freddie’s chest. 

“You know,” Jim said quietly. “The party will be nuts later.” Leaning up to watch Freddie’s face for reactions, he pinched at his nipple, rolling it between his fingers. If Freddie said the word, he’d stop. If Freddie didn’t seem interested, he’d stop.

“Your point, darling?” Freddie asked; his cheeks were a little pink, his breathing hitched as Jim lightly bit the bond mark.

“Well, I doubt we’ll get a moment alone all day,” Jim said, fighting to keep his tone casual. How Freddie managed to keep such a straight face whenever he teased Jim, he’d never understand;  _ he  _ was the one doing the teasing this time and he could already feel himself blushing.

His free hand slid down; he lightly stroked at Freddie’s entrance, just barely pushing his finger in and the Omega threw his head back, resting on Jim’s shoulder. There was a little smirk on his face, but Jim still hesitated: he knew damn well how many Alphas would take that smirk as permission, but he refused to be that type of Alpha.

For a moment they were silent; he started to pull his hand away. But then Freddie said, “Better make the most of our free time, darling,” and guided his hand back down.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Two rounds later, Freddie suddenly started laughing.

“Oh God, I’m terrified we woke Joe and Phoebe,” he said, though he was still laughing, so Jim didn’t worry too much.

“Happy birthday,” Jim said with a grin. He leaned down to kiss him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Freddie said happily. Then he suddenly shoved Jim off him and hopped out of bed with a grin. “Now let’s get the ball rolling, shall we? We’ve a  _ lot  _ to do.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_“Damn, if you wanna let me go, baby, please just let me know. You're not gonna get away with leading me on. Say that you want me, every day that you want me, every way that you need me. Got me trippin' super psycho love. Aim, pull the trigger, feel the pain getting bigger. Go insane from the bitter feeling, trippin' super psycho love.” -Super Psycho Love,_ ** **Simon Curtis**

Paul hadn’t even realised  _ Queen  _ were in Munich at first. He was just here to visit his friends and enjoy the new clubs. He’d been having a blast, because  _ damn  _ but Munich had some fantastic clubs and bars. He’d had no shortage of partners, that was for sure.

Then Kris mentioned that  _ Queen  _ were in Munich, recording their latest album.

“Didn’t you work with them?” Kris asked, oblivious, and Paul could only nod.

It felt like something had hit him on the head. He felt dizzy. All he could remember, suddenly, was a pair of big brown eyes looking up at him; those hips swaying sensually, that angelic voice, those pouty lips set in a teasing smirk... _ Freddie.  _ God, but he’d been the most gorgeous Omega that Paul had ever come across; he was the sexiest, the most alluring little thing, teasing and luring dozens of Alphas in with his eyes alone. When he was on stage he suddenly became electric, magentic, impossible to ignore. 

Freddie was beautiful, but he was also a foul little tease. He somehow got it in his head that he was  _ clever,  _ that he was equal to Alphas. For some mad reason he got  _ annoyed  _ by all the attention Alphas paid to him. He’d truly been awful at taking a compliment.

He remembered Ridge Farm: he remembered  _ finally  _ having Freddie in his arms, finally kissing him. The screaming had been unnecessary; Paul knew damn well Freddie was just teasing him, just playing shy. But Freddie had wanted it, had wanted  _ him,  _ Paul  _ knew  _ it. He wasn’t with Roger, he  _ couldn’t  _ have been with Roger- and if he was, then what the hell did he see in that temperamental git? 

And, okay, maybe Paul had come on a little strongly at the Farm. Maybe he had frightened Freddie, but he hadn’t  _ meant  _ to. He just wanted to show Freddie that he couldn’t go around teasing everyone like that. He couldn’t tease Paul and lead him on for so long and not expect any consequences. Rules were there for a reason, they upheld their society. Omegas had their place and Freddie had forgotten his. Paul was just doing him a  _ favour,  _ he was just reminding Freddie where he belonged: on his back, legs spread, obeying an Alpha’s orders. It was the way of the world, always had been, always would be.

Really, _if_ Roger was his boyfriend he’d done an awful job of keeping him in line.

For the first time in years, after Kris told him that Freddie was in Munich, Paul found his every waking moment consumed by thoughts of Freddie. For the first time in years, when he fell asleep, he dreamed that he had the Omega under him, screaming his name and begging for more.

And now, a week later, it was Freddie’s birthday. It hadn’t been hard to find out where it was being held.

It had been ten years. Surely Freddie was done with his teasing by now; surely he was done playing the shy victim. 

Paul had kept up with  _ Queen’s  _ career, seething with jealousy at every one of Freddie’s partners (an American chef? An Irish hairdresser?  _ Really? _ ), but for the most part he’d been able to put them out of his mind, but now...Now…

He looked at Freddie photo on the front page; it was an article about their upcoming album, as far as he could tell. Freddie had cut off his beautiful hair, he’d grown a moustache, but he was still small and slight, still wearing those outstanding stage costumes, still too enticing to be real.

And there was that  _ fucking bond mark  _ on his neck.

Slowly, his eyes went to the rohypnol on his desk and an idea started to form in his mind.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_“Every time I get hot, you wanna cool down. Every time I get high, you say you wanna come down. You say it's enough, in fact it's too much. Every time I wanna get down, get down, get down make love.” -Get Down Make Love,_ ** **Queen**

Jim had been right: the party was  _ absolutely fucking insane.  _

There were so many people he could barely move. Every step he took he ended up elbowing someone, or stepping on their toes. The drink was non-stop and he had to be honest, he rather liked the black-and-white theme. People had gone all out; he’d laughed himself sick at Joe’s dominatrix outfit and Brian’s witch costume. Deacy arrived in some weird, white flowing cloak that he insisted was based off some of Freddie and Brian’s old costumes.

Still though, it was fun. It was crazy, over the top and quickly going off the rails, but he was having fun. Before he met Freddie he’d have rolled his eyes at a party like this. He’d have said it wasn’t his scene, not the type of thing he’d attend...Yet here he was, at the centre of it all, having a blast with his husband and friends.

When Jim was drunk he was a lot more...hands on, shall we say. He’d all but thrown Freddie around the dance floor for nearly an hour, and now he held his husband to him tightly, resting his chin on top of Freddie’s head. His husband had long since lost his leather jacket; he was just in his harlequin leggings and suspenders, beaming up at Jim with an excited smile. Maybe it was the drink talking, but Jim was so in love it was ridiculous.

“I love you!” Jim yelled over the music. Freddie laughed, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

“You too, darling!” He tapped Jim on the nose. “I’m going to grab more drinks, okay?”

And he was off, slipping through the crowd with ease.

Damn it, Jim was smitten. 

They’d been married since 1982 and he still sometimes expected someone to say, “You’re dreaming, wake up!” Because Freddie was sweet and kind; he was gorgeous and funny, shy, and so freely affectionate in a way Jim wished he could be. Jim didn’t care how sappy it made him sound: Freddie was the bravest man he’d ever met. Sometimes, there was still that little voice in his head that argued that Freddie deserved a  _ real  _ Alpha. Jim may have  _ looked  _ imposing, but he’d never had that confidence, that fire inside that was expected of Alphas.

But when those thoughts came knocking he’d remember what Freddie said…

_ “I don’t want a ‘real Alpha,’” Freddie said, wrinkling his nose. “Jim, love, don’t you  _ get  _ it? I feel  _ safe  _ with you.” He traced patterns on Jim’s chest, frowning to himself. “Do you have any idea how many so-called  _ real Alphas  _ act like I’m a toy? I...I know you won’t do that.” _

He may have made Freddie feel safe, but Freddie made Jim feel braver. He’d never been one for public displays of affection before, but he’d lost count of how many times they’d been caught making out (and more); he no longer blushed when Freddie sat in his lap, he no longer felt shy when they held hands as they walked around London. And hell, sue him, he didn’t feel so shy about asking for sex anymore. 

Speaking of, those tight harlequin leggings were  _ doing things  _ to him, and as Freddie came back, holding a glass of champagne in either hand, Jim leaned down to kiss him.

“Please tell me there’s an empty room around here somewhere,” Jim said. Freddie smirked at him.

“Are you suggesting we sneak out?” Freddie asked, tilting his head. His grin widened. “Because yes, I think there’s free rooms upstairs, darling.” His nose wrinkled. “I  _ think.  _ I’m sure they’re all full by now.”

“You take the left, I take the right?” Jim suggested. Laughing, Freddie nodded and they split up, Freddie heading to the staircase on the left, Jim elbowing his way through the crowd on the right.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_“This is why we can't have nice things, darling. Because you break them I had to take them away. This is why we can't have nice things, honey. Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me? This is why we can't have nice things.” -This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things,_ ** **Taylor Swift**

Jim just reached the stairs when Roger suddenly appeared and grabbed his arm. He looked pale as death.

“Where’s Freddie?” he demanded, a frantic edge to his voice.

“Upstairs,” Jim said. “Why?”

_ “Fuck.”  _ Roger pulled away, running his hands through his hair. “Deacy saw Prenter sneak in. Security’s trying to find him, but no luck.”

Just like that, all of Jim’s joy vanished. Prenter. He knew that name. Back when he’d first started dating Freddie, his mate Lucas had said,  _ “A guy I used to drink with worked for them at the start you know.” _

_ Jim raised an eyebrow, sipping his beer. “Really?” _

_ Lucas nodded, much drunker than Jim. “Yeah, Paul Prenter. They fired him though.” _

_ “Why?” _

_ And immediately Lucas looked uncomfortable, like he suddenly remembered who he was talking to. “Ah...Well...I don’t wanna start anything…” _

_ “Lucas. Why’d they fire him?” _

_ Lucas sighed. On Jim’s left, Steven leaned in further to hear. “This is just what Paul told me, alright?” Lucas said. “He said he shagged Freddie, but Roger caught them and Freddie was bored of him by then, so he fired him, saying that Paul assaulted him.” _

_ “That doesn’t sound like Fred,” Jim said firmly. _

_ “Look, that’s just what he told me, okay?” _

_ Jim didn’t want to believe it, but it stayed with him. He felt guilty, like he was somehow betraying Freddie. Because Freddie had been nothing but sweet and funny so far. Promiscuous? Sure. Vindictive? No. _

_ Gathering all his courage, he asked. Freddie stared at him for one long, awful moment, before he started to laugh. It wasn’t a happy laugh; it was cold and mirthless. _

_ “He tried to fucking  _ rape  _ me!” Freddie said. He pushed out of Jim’s arms, jumping off the sofa. “Fucking hell, I should have known he’d try pull something like that.” He turned to Jim, furious and near tears. “You want to know what happened? He kissed me, he hit me, he pushed me to the floor and tried to rape me.  _ That’s  _ what happened.” _

It had resulted in Freddie ignoring him for the rest of the night; he’d locked Jim out of the bedroom. He seemed surprised to find Jim still there the next day.

_ “I thought you’d go,” Freddie said quietly. He kept his eyes on the floor, gripping his own arm. _

_ “Not a chance,” Jim said. “I’m sorry, Fred, really. I...I know you’re not like that. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that. And God, I’m so sorry that happened to you.” _

_ Freddie shrugged, but there was a challenging glint in his eyes when he looked at Jim. “That’s what Alphas do to Omegas, isn’t it?” he asked. _

_ Jim cupped Freddie’s face in his hands. “That’s not what this Alpha is going to do to you,” he promised. _

“Prenter’s here,” Jim repeated blankly. “You’re sure? You’re completely sure?”

Roger nodded. “I wasn’t sure if Deacy was right at first, but I saw him in the crowd- and I lost him,” he said and he sounded near tears.

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Paul Prenter was here.  _ Paul Prenter,  _ the man who’d harassed Freddie for two years straight, the man who tried to rape him, the man who told him it was an Omega’s job to shut up and spread their legs, was  _ here.  _ And Jim was pretty sure he knew what Prenter wanted.

“We need to find Fred,” Jim said. “Now.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was almost too easy. At this point in the night security was lax; he slipped past with ease, all he had to do was wear a black and white outfit. Then it was just a matter of finding Freddie in this crowd.

And then Paul spotted him across the room. Freddie was peering all about him, shirtless and gorgeous and  _ alone.  _ No Roger, no Brian, no John and no- what was his husband’s name? Jim, wasn’t it?

Either way, this worked perfectly for Paul. It was easy to sneak up on him in the crowd; Freddie was holding a champagne glass; he set it down as he stood on his toes to try and see over everyone’s heads and Paul slipped the drugs into the glass with ease. Then he stood back and watched.

Sure enough, Freddie took a large gulp of the drink, not noticing anything amiss. His scent had changed, Paul noticed, because of that  _ stupid _ mark; his flowers and spices were mixed with smoke and grass, marring him until he (or Jim) died. The sight was enough to have Paul furious; it should have been  _ him  _ to mark Freddie, it should have been  _ his  _ scent mixed with Freddie’s. God, but if Freddie was his husband, his Omega, he’d treat him right; he’d have Freddie screaming his name every night, he’d show him just how good Paul could make him feel. There was no way that dull little  _ hairdresser  _ knew how to treat him properly. Hell, he was still letting Freddie run wild!

In a perfect world, Paul would have tamed that wildness (in public at least; if Freddie still wanted to be a little slut in bed Paul would be more than happy to oblige), he’d make sure Freddie remembered his place, he’d make sure Freddie did what he was told.

But this wasn’t a perfect world, so Paul would just have to take what he could.

Freddie swayed on the spot, pupils blown, eyes glassy and Paul grabbed him around the waist.

“Miss me?” he purred, one hand trailing up to cup Freddie’s jaw, tilting his head back. Freddie blinked slowly, breathing heavily, clearly struggling to form words.

“Wha-what’re...You…” His eyes widened slightly.  _ “P-Paul?” _

“That’s right,” Paul said with a grin. He slipped one of Freddie’s suspenders off his shoulder. Freddie struggled weakly, trying to pull away, but it was all too easy to hold onto him; he’d always been tiny, that was one of the things Paul had liked best about him. “Let’s get upstairs, hm?”

He hadn’t been able to take what he wanted at Ridge Farm. He had no intention of being stopped this time.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_“‘Cause all you wanna do, all you wanna do, baby, is touch me, when will enough be enough? See, all you wanna do, all you wanna do, baby. Squeeze me, don't care if you don't please me. Bite my lip and pull my hair as you tell me I'm the fairest of the fair. Playtime's over. Playtime's over. Playtime's over.” -All You Wanna Do,_ ** **Six: The Musical**

“I can’t find him,” Deacy said; the poor man looked near tears.

“Me neither,” Brian said, pale as a sheet.

“Look, neither of them can have gotten far,” Roger said. “So we-”

_ “Guys!” _ Joe pushed through the crowd and grabbed Jim’s arm, out of breath. “I saw them, Paul was pulling him upstairs. Freddie looked funny, he- he looked totally out of it.”

“Which way?” Jim demanded.

“Right,” Joe said and they all ran for it.

_ Oh God, please let him be okay,  _ Jim thought. Christ, if something had happened to Freddie, if that creep touched him, Jim would never forgive himself.

He practically flew up the stairs; he’d never considered himself a fast runner, but he sprinted ahead of the others now.

_ Let him be okay, he has to be okay. _

Then he heard a strangled scream, a muffled, tearful call of his name and- it was the weirdest thing, he felt like he was outside his body watching himself. His every sense felt sharpened, his breathing slowly evened out. If he had to put a word to it, he’d say he was  _ hunting. _

With a snarl, he threw open the first door- and sure enough, there was that  _ monster  _ Prenter. He had Freddie pinned to large plush sofa, struggling with his tight leggings, a hand clapped over Freddie’s mouth.

“Shut up,” he hissed- and then he saw Jim and the others. He paled; Roger growled and Jim  _ pounced. _

He’d never been violent. At most he’d accidentally injured someone during rugby back in the day; he knew how to throw a punch if need be, he’d seen his fair share of bar fights. But this was  _ different,  _ this was for his husband, his  _ bond partner,  _ this was to defend  _ Freddie. _

He didn’t really  _ remember  _ hitting Prenter. He remembered tackling him, he remembered the first two punches, but everything else was a blur until Deacy’s frantic “Jim,  _ STOP IT! _ ” got through to him.

He stopped. He looked down; Prenter was groaning in pain. His nose was busted  _ badly,  _ gushing blood. Both eyes were blackened, his lip was split, a tooth looked chipped. His face looked terribly swollen.

Jim felt sick. Oh God. Oh God,  _ he’d  _ done that. Christ, he could have killed him.

Then he heard Freddie sob and it suddenly didn’t matter. All that mattered right then was Freddie.

He left Prenter on the floor and knelt at Freddie’s feet; Brian and Roger had fixed his suspenders and leggings; his eyes were still glassy, he was pale and shaking, but he seemed more aware of what was going on.

“Jim?” he whispered.

“I’m here,” Jim said, gathering his Omega in his arms. “It’s okay, Freddie. I’m right here, you’re alright.”

“I’m sorry,” Freddie sobbed.

“No, honey, no it- it’s not your fault.”

That little “I’m sorry” caused Roger to growl. Red faced, bristling with anger, he grabbed a lamp from the table and stormed over to Prenter.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” he snarled.

“Rog, no!” Brian yelled; he grabbed Roger’s arm, wrestling the lamp away. “Jesus Christ, what’s  _ wrong  _ with you, you can’t kill him!”

“Watch me,” Roger growled.

“We should call an ambulance,” Joe said, eyeing Prenter warily. His frightened eyes went to Freddie and his face crumpled. “Freddie needs medical attention and- well, so does  _ he. _ ”

“Leave him,” Roger said.

_ “Roger,”  _ Brian snarled. They stared each other down, both snarling, but it was Roger who looked away first.

“I’ll find a phone,” Deacy said quietly and fled the room.

And Jim was left holding his trembling husband in his arms, trying to soothe his tears.

What was scarier? The near assault, or the fact that Jim didn’t regret beating Prenter nearly unconscious at all?

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_“When the moon found the sun he looked like he was barely hanging on. But her eyes saved his life in the middle of summer (summer). In the middle of summer. All was golden in the sky, all was golden when the day met the night.” -When The Day Met The Night,_ ** **Panic! At The Disco**

_ The man in front of him turned too quickly and knocked right into him; his beer splashed all over them both and Jim let out a yelp as the cold liquid soaked through his shirt. More pressing however, was the fact that most of his drink had spilled on the other man, a slender Omega who looked perfectly horrified. _

_ “Oh  _ shit,  _ I’m so sorry, dear!” he said. His small hands fluttered anxiously, like he wasn’t sure if he should reach out or not. Despite the cold beer soaking into his skin, despite how much  _ more  _ of the beer was all over the Omega, staining his yellow shirt and white pants, Jim couldn’t help but stare. _

_ Petite, slim, with thick black hair and a neatly trimmed moustache and the most beautiful pair of eyes Jim had ever seen. He normally preferred tall men, broad men- someone his size, or larger. But this Omega, with his flowers-and-spices scent, was someone utterly intriguing.  _

He has a nice voice,  _ Jim thought stupidly. _

“Jim?”

His eyes fluttered open; he grunted.

“Jim?”

_ Freddie. _

His eyes snapped open; he’d fallen asleep, still holding Freddie’s hand. Freddie was sitting up in the hospital bed, still too pale, but totally alert.

“Oh thank God,” Jim breathed. He pulled Freddie into a hug, holding on tight. “Oh God, love, I’m _so_ _sorry._ I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

But Freddie shook his head. “I shouldn’t have put my drink down,” he mumbled.

“Nuh-uh,” Jim said. “No. It’s not your fault, none of this is your fault, you understand me? It was his fault, he-”

“It was Paul, wasn’t it?” Freddie interrupted. He looked up at Jim through his eyelashes, hair flopping over his forehead. “I...I wasn’t imagining that, was I?”

“...It was Paul,” Jim confirmed, barely getting the words out past the sudden lump in his throat. Freddie paled even further, hiding his face in Jim’s chest again, his nail’s digging into Jim’s arms. He was starting to tremble again.

“What happened?” he asked. “Did he…?”

“No,” Jim said. “No, he didn’t. I...Stopped him.”

“What do you mean?”

“...Let’s just say that...As out-dated as that law that lets me beat people up for touching you is, it comes in handy,” Jim said, soothingly stroking Freddie’s back. Slowly, his husband stopped trembling. He pulled back slightly, frowning at Jim.

“Wait, you- you beat him up?  _ You? _ ”

“I did.” Jim pushed Freddie’s hair out of his eyes. “I...I couldn’t help it. It was like I wasn’t even  _ me.  _ I just...I had to protect you. No matter what.”

“...Wow,” Freddie said. He looked completely stumped. Worn out and confused.

“Are you okay?” Jim asked.

“No,” Freddie said, shaking his head. “No, not really.” He managed a weak smile. “But I will be.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Three days later...** **_  
_ ** **_“Spread your wings, cover me, and promise this; if I die before I wake, oh, promise this. Take the time to say your grace. On your knees you pray for me. Promise this, be the last to kiss my lips.” -Promise This,_ ** **Cheryl Cole**

Freddie hung up the phone, slamming it down. “That was the police. They’re bloody  _ useless.  _ If this even goes to court he’ll only get a couple of months at most,” Freddie said with a scowl. “Add on that we’re not German citizens and this will have to take place back home…”

“It likely won’t go to court at all,” Jim finished with a sigh. He felt sick to his stomach. Sometimes he hated, truly  _ hated  _ the world they lived in. How many times had entitled Alphas laid a hand on Freddie? How many had hurt him and gotten away with it? How many more would try it?

Even some of his kindest friends laughed at him and said,  _ “You’re an Alpha, what’s it matter?”  _ when he complained about unfair the law was. They just didn’t get it. He wanted the law to be  _ equal,  _ he didn’t want to live in a world where discrimination was the law. He didn’t want to live in a world where it was  _ okay  _ to try and assault his husband, or hit him, or not pay him equally, or…

God, he was tired.

“I fucking hate this,” Jim sighed. Freddie looked at him with those big eyes, unreadable at the moment and nodded slowly.

“Me too.” He tilted his head, faintly pouting. “You know, I didn’t thank you properly. For protecting me.”

“You don’t have to,” Jim said.

“Not just with Paul, darling, I mean  _ in general. _ ”

But Jim shook his head. “Fat load of use I am,” he scoffed.

Freddie stared at him, still pouting. Slowly, he started to smirk. 

“We’ll see.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


That evening, Jim sat in front of the TV, still brooding. He couldn’t seem to help it. It was all just so bloody  _ unfair.  _ How could people just be content to live in a world like this? Omegas made up a third of the population, yet the world was happy to treat them like toys. Had they moved forward at all?

“Darling?” Freddie stood in the doorway and, despite himself, Jim’s mouth went dry. Freddie was wearing one of the long, silk kimonos he’d bought in Japan, red and black with threads of gold. His hair was freshly washed, a few errant curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. 

“Where are Joe and Phoebe?” he asked.

“Out,” Jim said. “Joe wanted to try some  _ native cuisine  _ and dragged Pheebs with him.”

“Hm…” Freddie nodded, twirling the kimono’s tassel in his hand. “Alright. Well, I’m heading to bed.”

That immediately struck him as odd. It was only nine o’clock. All the same, he nodded.

“Well...Alright…”

Freddie walked over, hips swaying just enough to draw Jim’s eye and the penny dropped.  _ Oh you sneaky little… _

“Good night, darling,” Freddie said, leaning down to kiss him. As he pulled back, he lightly cupped Jim’s cheek in his hand and smirked. “And just so you know…” He started to walk away, throwing a wink over his shoulder. “I’m not wearing anything under this.”

He laughed at Jim’s red face and strutted off.

For a moment, Jim was stuck. His brain seemed to be incapable of thinking of anything other than Freddie’s words.

Well. It’d probably be rude to leave Freddie waiting. 

He turned the TV off and ran after him.

“Freddie! Get back here!”

Freddie’s resulting laughter rang throughout the apartment. After all that silence and trembling, it was a relief.

They didn’t live in a perfect world, but so long as Jim had Freddie, so long as he could stay with him, so long as Freddie was safe and happy, Jim was happy too.

He’d never let anyone like Paul Prenter get his way.

Jim couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather spend his life with, than that bright, shining star of a man; if he woke up to that smile every day for the rest of his life he’d consider it an honour.

  
  
  
  
  
  
**_“I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you. I don't need you to search for the proof that I should. You don't have to convince me, you don't have to be scared you're not enough, ‘cause what we've got going is good. I don't need more reminders of all that's been broken. I don't need you to fix what I'd rather forget. Clear the slate and start over, try to quiet the noises in your head. We can't compete with all that. So, what if it’s us? What if it’s us, and only us?” -Only Us,_ ** **Dear Evan Hansen**

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the only time Jim's had to go Alpha on someone's ass, but it is the most severe.  
> I didn't intend to end it like that- I was originally going to end it in the hospital- but that ending is a bit of practice for an intended one-shot wherein Jim gushes about how great Freddie is. So...Voila? 😆
> 
> Writing about Jim and Paul side by side is...oddly uncomfortable. They're just so utterly different. You can kind of count Paul as an unreliable narrator come to think of it; his view of things is so warped and he lies about everything.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! 💖


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